What makes the whole scanner acquisition even more delicious is the fact that I recently organized EVERY PHOTO IN MY HOUSE into a variety of photo boxes and albums. The baby's room is not painted, we have not ordered furniture, actual food products are still not allowed in my kitchen cabinets, and for reasons too bizarre to explain there is a spare kitchen table sitting in the middle of my bedroom. BUT AS GOD IS MY WITNESS, OUR PHOTOS ARE ORGANIZED.

So would you like to see some photos of my pre-Amalah.com life? Too bad! That's what you're getting, and will probably get all week, until I get bored.

Baby Amalah, who looks an awfully lot like her little bald grandpa in this picture.

Approximately five minutes after that photo was taken, I entered my "awkward stage," which would continue until college, so very little photographic evidence exists during that time.

Well, no more angel costume for me, that's for sure.

I HAVE ILLEGALLY OBTAINED ALCOHOL! WHOOO! AND I AM WEARING A HAT! HEEEEEEEE.

(That's a poster of Leonardo DiCaprio on my door, people. It was a very weird time in my life.)

A photo from the horrific Dharma-from-Dharma-and-Greg-Haircut-and-Those-Fuzzy-Mules-I-Wore-Everywhere Period. GAH.

(I remember those cut-off shorts, too. I wore them until they very literally disintegrated off my body.)

It was around this time that I met this one guy. I think his name was Jason, or something.

This is us on St. Patrick's Day in Philadelphia. I do not remember ever agreeing to wear a hat, especially a hat that seems to be missing a substantial chunk of itself, but I definitely remember that I was no longer wearing the hat when I was puking in the parking garage a short while later.

I do remember Jason holding my hair though.

It wasn't all drunken debauchery, of course. Here I am on Christmas morning (exact year unknown, because there is only so much organizing a girl can do after years and years of photo neglect), surrounded by my loving family. (Or at least my dad and the top of my sister's head.) I am holding up the battery-operated nose-hair trimmer that my older brother thoughtfully purchased for me.

Another Christmas (some years later, judging by the hair growth). I believe this may have been one of the holidays AFTER my parents decided to allow wine back into the house. Am just guessing though.

Meanwhile, I was still pretty darn crazy about this Jason character.

We got engaged, and I had a bridal shower and got lots and lots of casserole dishes.

Here I go for a demure, bride-like pose with my big ribbon bouquet, but I think the effect is a little ruined by the fact that you can see up my dress.

We were married on August 8, 1998. I was 20, Jason was 21.

If this photo had those little thought-balloon things, I'm betting about half the people in this photo are thinking, "It won't last, and I wonder if anyone's running a divorce pool. I could hit the ATM before the reception."

HA HA SUCKERS. YOU OWE US A BIG FAT PARTY.

Jason:(through gritted teeth) Do we really have to go to the reception?

Amy:(hisses) Shh. Just smile for the camera, and then I'll tackle the limo driver, steal the keys and we'll drive to Atlantic City.

We didn't do the garter toss, so I did the classy thing and put it on Jason's head for some reason.

But can we just talk about how skinny I am? Please, let's all talk about how skinny I am.

(This is what happens when you get married before the full onset of puberty. Also before you are allowed to buy your own beer.)

And then we bought a cat, who may or may not be posessed by the devil.

(Had enough? You've probably had enough. I'll stop now. But I cannot promise to stop for good, because like I said, all my photos are organized by category and subject into half a dozen adorable little photo boxes, and it is so, so satisfying to take a picture out, scan it, and then PUT IT BACK IN ITS PROPER PLACE. HOLY GOD, IT IS BETTER THAN SEX.)

P.S. Thank you, thank you, THANK YOU to everybody who commented on my last entry. Your words and prayers and stories were just what my mom and I needed to read. We both really appreciate it. And for everyone currently fighting breast cancer or supporting somebody who is (and DAMN, there are a lot of you), we're praying/hoping/positive-vibe-sending right back at you.

You were totally skinny at your wedding. I am jealous. I was skinny when I was twenty as well, but at 25 when I got married, not quite. I learned to scan this past weekend, so I also spent my weekend scanning and organizing photos. It is so much fun!

I always forget that you were a Penn Stater, too (and a skinny little minx of one, at that!)

Such cute pictures--you almost inspire me to dig out the numerous shoe boxes full of random pictures that live under my bed...But then I remember--how very many there are, and how very little I like organizing.

And yes, Squishy totally has your nose...how weird that is to know, before he's born, who he looks like!

You should totally keep on posting old pictures, because today I am ill and spent this morning looking at my old photos (such a consuming thing to do, they were like crack), and I love looking at other people's photos. I totally feel like I know you better now, even though I feel slightly stalkerish.

Also, you were totally skinny at your wedding and made a gorgeous bride, but you still seem pretty skinny now apart from the cute pregnancy belly. With you and Jason as parents, this kid has some wonderful genes.

Dharma? That's nothing--when I was 12, my aunt's best friend/Fantastic Sam's hair stylist thought long layers stopped at your eyebrows. I was called Shredder by the entire seventh grade for two weeks. My solution? Wear a headband, so that instead of a Shredder crown, I had Shredder wings on each side of my head.

HA! I told you he has your nose! I think I was channeling you this weekend as I found three more shoeboxes full of photos that I spent an hour going through and picking out ones I could scan and post on my blog. I still have pics of sixth grade camp. They are yellow, too, and I don't remember anyone in them and yet I can't bring myself to throw them out...

My name's Amy (ignore the name used below, I use it b/c there are so many damn Amys here!) and I never got that book!! I was 21 when I got married two years ago so I know what getting married super young is like. Yay for you and Jason! I love the old pics and won't get bored so keep 'em coming; you're fantastic!

i can tell that little angel allison was so clearly NOT an angel. you can see it in the eyes. she is, at the moment this photo was taken, plotting to do something quite sinister. it's obvious. just look at her evilness. she oozes evil. archenemy indeed.

Yes, keeping photos organized in cute little boxes is better than sex! My "boxes" of organized photos date back to 1989! I even have two separate white boxes for my wedding photos - the date of which was exactly a week before your wedding!

Cute Pics! I think I have you ALL beat though, I got married at the tender age of 18 (No, I wasn't pregnant and no, it wasn't arranged by our parents). We've been married for two years and we are still going strong (whoever said that young love can't survive?)! Congrats on your upcoming anniversary!!

Hurrah for photos and transatlantic voyuerism! My favourite is the passport photo type ones of you and Jason. And the wedding ones. And the sheer unadulterated glee of the alcohol-hat combination. Oh, and the rest. Keep them coming, please!

Amalah, on an un-scanner related note, SO GLAD you are reading Harry Potter b/c I've really become attached to you and your blog and would hate to stop reading b/c you are not a Potter fan...one less thing to worry about I suppose. ;) I don't know how far you've gotten but I hope you post when you're done.

Love the pictures! And hey, if you want to go one step further, you could get Photoshop and touch up the old pictures to make them less yellow-y. Because then they'd look even better than your originals in your organized box!

Oh, and add one more child bride to the club - I was 21. 'Course, I may not count b/c I've only been married for almost 2 years. You guys have all been married longer than me.

Anyway, I know what part you're talking about...and while I was pretty much expecting that to happen, that is NOT the way I thought it would be going down. And yet? I think there's more to it than what was written in this book, and I think the next book will show that it was all part of a plan..

DYING to discuss the book b/c my husband STILL isn't done with it... boo.

As a male, I do not fully understand the devestation of breast cancer. My wife is a urvivor for 4 years now. If you or your mother needs anyone to speak with, she is available on the phone or by email. Just ask. Her support group is from Alaska to New York. They all speak together, they coped with the surgery, the chemo, the radiation and now, the Tamoxifen. My best thoughts....